Basic Skills
by ReddoCreeper
Summary: Apprentice AU. No slash. Much angst.
1. Chapter 1

Uh yeah so like three years ago I had an account on here and basically I got locked out of it and so I stopped updating my fic and then one day I was like 'let's finish that thing' so that's what this is

This ( s/7734330/1/Basic-Skill) is the first part of the story you should probably read it first if you want to understand what's happening here

Also this chapter was sort of written with the idea of getting my head back in the game so it's kind of exposition-y

/

"You're quiet."

_Oh hahaha. _

"I know. I know. Repeating my jokes. To be fair, it's not as if you're giving me much new material."

'To be fair', Dick didn't want to be fair. The doctor – Call-me-Arnold with his sweaters and his glasses and his collar ruffled from taking off his tie so Dick couldn't strangle anyone with it – was the third one he'd had since he'd arrived. The others had given up fast but Call-Me-Arnold seemed to have dug in for a long campaign. Their sessions took place across a table that was welded to the floor, between them was a thick sheet of bullet proof plastic, and standing in each corner of the room was an armed guard. _Because you're a criminal. _

That wasn't why Dick was angry. He'd proven that they needed to keep an eye on him, that he was _dangerous. _It was logical, and he wasn't going to get angry about logic. His anger was Call-Me-Arnold's fault.

It was his fault because he was enthusiastic: because his colleagues had failed to fix Dick. Dick was _famous_. Solving the case of the spoiled brat who tried to murder a superhero would make Call-Me-Arnold famous too.

No matter how far he'd fallen he'd never expected to relate to the Joker.

(If this ended with him in a purple tux and Call-Me-Arnold in facepaint and a Harlequin clown costume he really _would _go mad.)

"I don't think you're a bad person Richard."

And now he knew for certain that Call-Me-Arnold was an idiot.

He'd been here two weeks. It felt longer. He felt _older. _Taller. Thinner. That part was true anyway. Though he'd tried to keep exercising it wasn't easy to get what he was used to. The prison food was basic nutrition only: not enough protein to keep up his muscle mass. He was dying slowly here. He thought about complaining, but that would mean breaking his universal silent treatment.

And his whole thing now was acting like he didn't care about anything.

_Your whole thing now is really not caring about anything. _

_After all. It's temporary. _

_Slade's going to get you._

Like these counselling sessions. Why should he bother playing along? The doctor- even if he'd been good enough to help him, even if Dick had _needed _help- only knew what Bruce had told him:

Dick had been having a 'rough time'.

Dick had vanished.

Dick had resurfaced after breaking into Titan Tower and stabbing teen heroine and complete stranger, Raven.

He'd pieced all of that together from what Call-Me-Arnold and his two predecessors had said to him, and discovered from it the only useful thing he was likely to learn from incarceration; Bruce- Batman- hadn't put him here with any hope of rehabilitation. If he'd wanted to, he could have found a doctor he trusted. Someone who could be given enough of the truth to have a chance of helping fix whatever Bruce thought had snapped in his brain.

_But he hadn't. _

This wasn't about moving on with his life, no matter how much the doctors and the posters on the walls told him that the future was ahead of him. This was Batman throwing a tantrum. _This was Batman being a Batbaby. _

Dick fought the urge to sneer at his own joke.

Maybe he really was turning into the Joker.

"-talk to me. I think we've had a really productive session."

Dick let the guard stick the gun in his back, stood up and walked to the door. Down the hall. He could smell the greasy unpleasantness of lunch.

It had occurred to him that he could start talking. Let Slade kill the Titans.

_A little part of you is so angry with them that you-_

He didn't want them dead. He _didn't. _

But it wasn't fair that he should be here, that he should have done all of this for them – _stabbed Raven for them_- and they'd not had enough faith to trust him back.

It hurt.

He could, also, talk about something else. Give up Batman. Slade would _like _that.

But it wouldn't work. Bruce wouldn't have sent him here if there was a chance it might.

_What's one more crazy person saying they're Robin?_

It was probably good. Dick wouldn't kill the Titans- wouldn't kill Bruce.

But he was so _angry. _Angry about right now, angry about Zucco and angry about everything in between, this betrayal had dug open all the old resentment he hadn't realised he had and now-

If he could ruin Bruce's life?

The only thing that he knew for sure was stopping him was that he didn't want Bruce to think he cared.

That scared him.

In the food court, Dick made to walk to the queue. The guard stopped him and gestured to the other line- the one for people with pills to take with their meal.

"Not so fast. You've got meds."

_What?_

Had Call-Me-Arnold put him on something? Great. Now he had to start throwing up after meals. No way was he ingesting anything that hack prescribed.

"Grayson. R." The nurse smirked. _She knows who you are. She hates you too. _

Nobody liked rich brats attacking Superheroes. Big shock.

"You're on… let's see… Vit. C… B1, 2, 3… 6, Folate. Biotin. Pantothenic acid. Damn. Full set." She handed him a paper cup of ugly capsules and another with water. "You pregnant or something?"

He ignored her, eying the pills suspiciously. Different sorts and so many of them. Could be they were all fake to hide the real one, that this really was just Call-Me-Arnold, but the prison thought he was ordinary, right? So why would they bother?

Sudden, sick hope clutched at his chest. _You aren't even pretending anymore._ He looked the nurse in the eyes and emptied the cup down his throat in two mouthfuls, water between them.

_You don't even care that you shouldn't want his 'rescue'. _

And why should he? He didn't belong in here. At least out there, at least beside Slade he had a chance of getting the trigger. Getting the Titans safe, then-

_Leaving them all. _

He wasn't going back. Not ever.

_You're not getting that trigger off him either. You'd be leaving one prison for another. And if you don't kill for him it's only a matter of time till he gets sick of you and shoots you himself. _

But he didn't believe that. Slade wouldn't kill him. Not after all of this. Not before he could think of something. Slade was honest. Slade didn't care about him, didn't pretend to care about him, but he was _invested. _

He was watching.

He knew he was losing weight in here. Wanted him strong so he'd changed his medical requirements and got him supplements.

_It could have been Batman. _

It hadn't been Batman.

Maybe that certainty should have scared him too.


	2. Chapter 2

WOO SIX MORE DAYS AND THIS IS DONE WOO

Here is the first part again ( s/7734330/1/Basic-Skill ). Yesterday it didn't save the changes I made so the link didn't show up. That probably confused people. If you were a confused person then sorry.

/

Oh god, the _nights here. _

He wished he was in the main prison. He wished he was anywhere else.

Across the block from him, someone was crying. Piercing, sharp little sobs that hurt his head. A few cells down there were occasional screams. Nightmares, he figured, but it could have been something else. Juvie kids put so much effort into being tough during the day that they crumbled in private.

At least he had his own cell. _At least Batman cared enough to tick a box and have you labelled dangerous. _

Did Bruce really think he would hurt one of these kids?

_Obviously. _

He might. He'd stabbed Raven after all.

_You're capable of anything. _

Someone shouted, swearing, at the crier and they began to howl. That was how it worked. You tried to fix something and you made it worse and-

_Wow. Nice metaphor. Real subtle. Stop being dramatic and focus on how you're so crazy that you're critiquing your own inner monologue. _

He could feel himself changing. Hardening from the inside out. He had group therapy as well as his own private meetings and he passed the time while the kids talked- listing who'd hurt them, 'opening up' was the shrink's buzzword- imagining how it would feel to kill them.

He didn't _want_ to. He wouldn't _do_ it.

But how could they complain? How could they _dare whine about their petty little problems when he was sitting right there? When he was suffering so much more? _

They weren't worth anything. They were soft children. They had no _right. _

He tried to feel sorry for them and realised it was beyond him.

He hadn't tried very hard.

_Slade would be pleased. _

The part of him that still cared about things- the part that wasn't just burning-up-angry-insane – hated that thought. Felt sick at the idea that he wasn't even trying to fight it, at the knowledge that he was doing exactly what he'd wanted: that he was becoming like him.

But what was the point? Slade had been _right. _People leave. They can't be trusted. _Your only chance is to let go of them and take care of yourself._

_Look at Starfire. _

All that power-

When she'd arrived she'd been so _strong_. So distant and controlled. All warrior, no princess. And then-

He sat up, the thin mattress squelched under him. _He wasn't thinking about the Titans. _Whatever, the point was:

_Friends made you soft. _

The cell was six by eight feet. Concrete floors, concrete walls. The furniture was secured. A camera pointed at him- straight at him, not angled like the others- from the wall outside his bars. He had a feeling that was a present from Batman.

At least he was consistent: he was determined to screw up the rest of Dick's life as much as he had the start of it. Keep him here like a bug in a jar.

_Not the start. Since Zucco. Since he wouldn't let you finish the creep. _

If he had he'd have been here anyway, just a little sooner.

He considered trying to break out himself. Not because he thought he'd get past Batman, just for something to do while he waited for Slade.

_You didn't know how good you had it when you were working for him. _

Oh god.

Now and then he still had the power to shock himself by thinking something like that.

But – Dick lay back again and closed his eyes, sealed himself completely in the dark messy quiet of his head – it wasn't like he was wrong. Did he want to kill people? No. But-

_And now you're the kind of person who puts a 'but' at the end of that answer. _

_Batman would be proud. _

Dick's lip twitched.

He almost smiled.

_Good. _


	3. Chapter 3

Despite delaying this story for three years I decided to keep having slightly irrelevant chapters from other perspectives

FIRST TWENTY-ISH CHAPTERS OVER HERE s/7734330/1/Basic-Skill

/

"Is he dead?"

Bruce didn't move. Kept clicking through his computer files, facing away from me.

Like I was just going to quit.

"_Bruce_! Is he-"

"This isn't something I'm going to talk about."

"No, _this_ is _Dick-_"

"I thought you watched the news."

"That stuff about him going to Blackgate? Oh _come on, _like I'm-"

"It's true." He stood up, swept across the cave to his car. "I won't argue with you about-"

"Bruce!"

He'd already left me in his exhaust fumes.

Jerk.

I've seen the papers call us the 'Batfam'. I mean I _guess _it makes sense for outsiders to assume that sort of thing. They're just really freaking wrong. Bruce isn't a bad person, but he's emotionally defunct. Since Dick went to Jump I've been more out of the loop than in it.

Right now that was making life difficult.

_Oh, come on Barbara. Think. _I pinched my nose. Okay. Option one, I wait. Bruce comes back eventually and ignores me again. Maybe Alfred finally shows up but based on the appearances he's put in recently I'd have more chance of tracking down Bigfoot. Option two: I go to Blackgate. I try to visit whoever's in there under Dick's name and see if there's a clue that way. _Aaaaaand _my Dad hears about it, starts his own little investigation into why his squeaky clean daughter is visiting murderous rich kids. The best result is that he thinks I have a thing for bad boys. More likely he figures out something to do with my night life.

Option three-

Option three landed me in Jump a few hours later.

I admit it: I'm not a big traveller. Gotham's enough city for anyone and I don't like holidays. So maybe I was a little out of my element in bright-and-shiny-not-quite-Metropolis Jump. Whatever, I wasn't there to see the sites. I scanned the skyline, revved my bike and headed for the tower.

The stupid 't' shaped tower. How did it even stand? How-

My breath hitched.

I'd always meant to make fun of Dick for building that thing.

I know what you're thinking: 'she feels guilty, she's blaming herself, she's still not over the crush she had when she was twelve'. Yeah, well, screw all of you. Maybe I could have stopped Dick leaving, maybe I could have stopped Batman driving him away. Maybe if I'd visited him here he wouldn't have vanished completely.

But maybe I couldn't have done anything.

In the end it doesn't matter _why _as much as the fact I'm trying to fix it now.

I glared at their security camera till I heard someone coming, it was the alien girl- Starfire. I switched to professional mode, held out my hand.

"Batgirl."

"Yes, you are from Gotham. Robin- …" She stopped; she almost flinched.

_Dick, what did you do?_

"He's why I'm here." I worked the Bat glare as hard as I could. "I'm investigating what happened to him, why-"

"Something has happened?!"

It was like setting off a firework; she rose a foot in the air, I swear she started _glowing_.

"He is well?!"

"He-"

"He is _harmed?!_"

"Star. Jeez." Someone behind her. The other girl: Raven. "You're going to bring down the Tower."

"I-" Flattened, Starfire sank back to the ground. "I am sorry."

"It's fine." I think she'd set my eyebrows on fire a little. "You're Raven?"

"I'm Raven." She gestured for me to come inside, Starfire drifted between us. "The others are on patrol. Starfire got babysitting duty tonight."

"We are making the fudge!" Her enthusiasm sounded forced. I eyed Raven.

"Babysitting?"

She shrugged, "So I don't get _lonely_ on my medical leave. R-"

I'm good at noticing little things: little moments of tension, the way Raven favoured one side as she walked, she'd been hurt. Starfire's shoulders tightening.

I felt like I'd been punched.

You see, the other thing I'm good at is adding stuff up. I'm a detective.

_He'd done it. He'd really done it. _

They must have realised I wasn't following them anymore. Raven looked over her shoulder and I saw her work it out too: what I'd come here to investigate, and that after only a few minutes I was done.

I'm not a sharer. Neither's Raven (though I didn't find that out till later). We could have stood there in the most awkward of silences till the end of the world.

_But-_

"… Batgirl." Starfire drifted between us. For a second I thought she was going to slap me.

The hug –even if it did feel like being stepped on by an elephant – was much more welcome.

Later, once we'd talked, I left. Walked in a daze back to my bike.

I wasn't angry. I wasn't even sad, just-

_Disappointed. _

Not in him.

I'd done this. I'd _let him down. _There are warning signs for people on the edge and I'd missed them all because I _hadn't been there. _I-

Someone was watching me.

It was a feeling. It wasn't evidence, nobody proves anything with the hairs standing up on the back of their neck.

And considering that I was upset? That I was out of my element and out of my home?

I imagined it.

_I know I imagined it. _


	4. Chapter 4

He'd never realised how much he missed Gotham rain.

Thick, heavy and grey, it smelled like cold smoke. It fell like tar.

He wanted to go and stand in it, but for non-specific health and safety reasons they were kept inside during bad weather. He had to watch it through a dirty window in the cafeteria.

Was Batman out in it? Standing on a rooftop and posing against a lightning bolt?

Maybe he'd slip and break something. _Maybe his neck._

Dick frowned. Looked at the ground between his feet.

_You're a bad person. _

Accepting that made things easier.

Maybe-

Suddenly something cracked- the lights had gone out. A few kids screamed. Someone shouted 'BOO!' Dick froze, adjusting his eyes. Something was happening here. A moment later red safety bulbs buzzed on and dimmed the dark.

"All right, all right-", One of the guards had a megaphone, "Our power's out. We're all going to stick together- I want high security at the back of the room. Hands behind your heads. Everyone else buddy up so we can get to the basement."

"You know what this really is, right?" One of the other dangerous kids was muttering to his friend, "When the Bat's having a big fight they get all of us outta the way, in case the Joker tries to spring everyone again."

The other kids were filing out, leaving the five of them and three guards inside. One of them, deciding he was the leader, stepped forward. "We've got a nice big cell for you boys down a floor. I want you to follow me. Slow and easy. Any running or messing around and I can't promise my trigger won't slip. Understand?"

Dick's eye twitched. This was Gotham. You'd have to be living with your head under the ground to imagine that anyone cared about prisoner safety.

Slowly, all together in a solemn little parade, they made their way out of the room and down the dark hall. "These stairs. Stick together."

He did as he was told, teeth gritted.

This had to be it, right? Slade had to be-

A shot fired somewhere, then another. Gradually, rising up and echoing down to them, there were shouts- more shots, screams sometimes cutting through it. All of them coming from the main prison.

For a few seconds they were all still, staring up the stairwell.

"Riot." Breathed the boy to his right. "It's a riot."

Everything happened very fast then.

The guards had more to lose, they were slower to react. The first one went face first down the stairs, Dick ducked as the second pulled out his gun and fired. Someone tackled him over before he could shoot another, someone else cried out in pain-

_Run. _

He did. Up the stairs again and out into the hall.

_You need a plan. You need-_

A door jarred on its hinges, someone was kicking it from the other side. Dick jogged past it, headed toward the cafeteria but there were voices coming from there. He stopped. Pressed his back against the wall.

_Think. _

_This is a riot. These are dangerous men and they're everywhere. You're not a guard- you're in the juvie uniform. They might be nice._

Or they might take him hostage. He'd been on the news for a week after what he'd done to Raven, of _course _they'd know who he was-

The door finally gave up, cracked against the floor. Men ran out, laughing and jostling against each other. Swearing and shouting, headed towards him. He bowed his head, bit the inside of his mouth. _Don't breathe. Don't do anything. Be invisibl-_

Someone poked his chest, took a handful of his shirt,"Hey, hey, _hey_! It's-"

_So much for that. _

Dick ducked, punched his kneecap- _felt it crack- _

By the time they'd realised they should be chasing him he'd gone halfway down the hall, spun round the corner-

A hand grabbed him. Pulled him to the side and into a dark room. He struggled, shoved, _bit, _the footsteps outside were louder and louder and then they passed and-

He was let go. Staggered back a step and, still crouched, looked up.

Slade smiled right back.


	5. Chapter 5

THREE DAYS

/ / / / / / / / / / /

_Of course. _

"Dick."

He swallowed down the urge to react. To look _pleased. _He wouldn't give him that.

"Sla-", His voice cracked. It _hurt. _He staggered over coughing, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. _Oh right._ He hadn't spoken in a month.

"Careful." Slade caught his shoulder, straightened him out. For a horrible, surreal second he thought he was going to hug him. "Drink this. It's technically for treating gas inhalation, but it should help."

Dick glowered, shrugged him off. Accepted the bottle anyway.

It tasted of sugar and cheap mint, and it burned.

"You-", He coughed again, though at least this time he managed to stay standing.

"Try not to choke." Slade was watching him. _Smiling. _

"Not- _gonna-_", Maybe he'd been out of the quipping game too long. He composed himself. "… What- _took_ you- so long?"

"No 'thank you'?"

Dick frowned, fists clenching.

Something was different.

_It's you. _

Because he'd been waiting for this. He's been, despite himself, _looking forward _to this. And it wasn't that they were on equal footing. Slade still held the power here- could still break every bone in his body, could still kill the Titans. But even with that-

He wasn't scared of Slade anymore.

After everything, after how numb and cold he'd become, there wasn't enough left in him to feel it.

_And would Slade killing them really hurt you more than what you've gone through already?_

Slade was still watching him. Dick glowered back and stayed quiet. _Go on. Make a threat. _

But instead his smile widened, showed teeth, and he nodded.

"Look at that. You've grown a spine."

"I don't want your damn _approval_." He snapped, crossed his arms.

_There's something a little comforting in him still being able to get under your skin. _

"Oh, I know that." Slade tossed him a bag, "Only children care about _that_." _More praise. _Jerk. "There's a closet in the corner. Get changed."

Dick caught it, went to move, then stopped. So Slade liked him 'having a spine'? _Let's see. _

"What if I don't?"

Slade shrugged. "Won't you?

"That's not what I asked."

"Then-", his head tilted, his eye fixed on Dick_, and he_ was _still smiling that stupid smile. _"I'll leave you here."

The air between them felt heavy. _Charged. _

Dick gritted his teeth. He was lying. He had to be lying. Slade wouldn't have done all this- wouldn't have wasted his time- if he was happy to go without him.

But-

_What if he did?_

He couldn't risk that.

Dick nodded. Headed to the closet.

_Slade hadn't even mentioned hurting the Titans. _

The clothes in his bag weren't his uniform: just simple and dark, a little like Slade's own. A bulletproof vest too.

"Stay behind me out there. These men know who you are."

Dick snorted. "You're scared of them?"

"Heh." Slade handed him a gun. "_Funny_. No. Just concerned that word will get out to Wayne that I'm here. We need him distracted."

_Wayne_.

_You like that he knows who Batman is. It feels like a win. _

And Dick worked something else out too. Slade made his own opportunities, so-

"… Who's he fighting?"

Slade opened the door, edged out again. The riot was louder- it was everywhere now. "The Joker. Poison Ivy."

Dick flinched. _They were dangerous. They'd hurt people. _He hid it from his voice. "Why them?"

"They were in Arkham. Did you know the guards there are _far _easier to bribe than the ones here? To be expected I suppose, since all of their inmates break out anyway."

Together, they crept through the halls. It took Dick a few minutes to realise that something was wrong.

"This is the way to the main prison."

"Yes."

"How can we get out where the security's tighter?" Not that he really doubted that Slade _could._

"We're not getting out-"

"_What_?"

"_Yet. _We have something to find first."

"Right." Rescuing him was a side mission then: Slade had come here for something else and decided to pick him up while he was in the neighbourhood. _Maybe you're not as valuable to him as you think. _

And for some reasons, that stung.

"Not asking what?" Slade glanced over his shoulder. Dick snorted.

"You'd have already told me if you were going to."

He chuckled, opened another door. "Good Boy."

Dick's eyes narrowed: _that _was one thing he had no intention of putting up with. "Don't call me that. Call me that again and I'm staying here."

He didn't mean it. Obviously.

But Slade looked at him, still so _amused. _"Serious business then? I'll try to remember."

Dick stopped. _This is a stupid place to draw your line in the sand. _

But it mattered. Not the name itself, but the balance between them. Dick wasn't scared of him anymore and that had to _mean something. _

"_Slade._"

"All right." He stopped, turned to face him- still with a slight air of talking to a toddler, but so _seriously-_

"I promise."

They stood looking at each other for a moment, till Dick snapped and broke eye contact. "Yeah. Fine then. Good."

They were silent the rest of the way, Slade leading and beckoning him when it was safe. Dick trusting him to know. Whatever they were looking for was downstairs, below the prison. Finally they reached a dark room: full of filing cabinets.

"… The records?"

"The record room. This place is upsettingly old fashioned. It's so much easier to break into a hard drive." He flexed his shoulders. "Guard the door."

There wasn't much danger of anyone finding them down here: what sort of self-respecting riot cared about messing with bureaucracy? Slade wasn't being careful, he just didn't want him to see what he was doing.

Like Dick even cared.

Though he tried to watch him anyway, just out of spite. No luck.

"Alright." He was tucking something inside his jacket, "We're done."

"Now we just have to escape the heavily guarded prison in the middle of a riot?"

Slade grinned. Positively _grinned. _

"It'll be fun."


	6. Chapter 6

Wouldn't it be totally hilarious if I vanished for ANOTHER three years

haha no it would not

My laptop broke but now it lives again. Sorry.

ONCE AGAIN THE FIRST TWENTY OR SO CHAPTERS ARE OVER HERE s/7734330/1/Basic-Skill

Convenient Alias: Yes. Batman should probably be all over this, so here is some super secret behind-the-scenes info I just made up: he has been investigating it but can't find anything conclusive enough to want risking taking Dick out of Blackgate. Could he lock him up in the cave? Yes. But Batman does have a history of being an ass to his sidekicks *coughfiringstephaniebrown* *cougassumingcasscainwasreallyevil*.

Yes, actually that works. This is the same Batman who let Slade hypno-drug Cass for a year, not the Batman who does things which aren't stupid. OUT OF CHARACTER WRITING SOLVED.

Guest who likes my playful Slade: In between the first twenty chapters and now I have read far more comics than I've watched TT episodes, and overall (Nu52 crap excluded) comics Slade tends to make jokes. Sometimes. And he defo likes using whatever he can to get under Dick's skin.

THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED

AGAIN **THE FIRST TWENTY CHAPTERS ARE HERE ** s/7734330/1/Basic-Skill

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

"There's a helicopter on the roof."

"That's kind of high profile for a secret escape."

He shrugged, gestured for him to follow up another flight of stairs. "It's unfortunate. But the other option was the sewers."

"You're kidding." Dick looked flatly at his back, "You decided to fly because you didn't want to get your _boots dirty_?"

Slade smiled at him. "I'm kidding. The pipelines under Blackgate make Fort Knox look like daycare. You really should know your own city better."

They both knew it wasn't his city anymore: Slade wanted a reaction.

_Just like the old days. _

Dick decided to try something new.

"I'm not going to fall for that. You could at least be subtle."

No reply, and Dick realised with a little bump of pride, that Slade wasn't sure what to say. That he was _impressed. _

It wasn't that he wanted to prove himself, he decided. But-

Scoring a point against Slade. He deserved to feel good about that.

After a few more minutes he chuckled his dry chuckle. Dick smiled.

"You know-", The stairs ended, they headed out and along another corridor. Offices now: most of them had been raided. Slade's voice was a little quieter than normal but he was walking, not running. _He's being careful. That's the same as fear in anyone else. _Dick kept up, "I think I _like _this new sense of humour you've developed. Life on the inside's done you a favour."

Dick didn't reply. Tightened his hand around his gun.

A door ahead opened. Jostling through it came a gang of prisoners- faces bloody, fully armed. They saw them. Saw _him. _

"It's Wayne's kid! It's-"

Slade put a bullet through him. The one behind him moved faster- grabbed the gun, Slade twisted it free and smacked the side of his head. "Dick- _down-_!"

Another shot: a body slumped behind him. _What are you doing? _He'd been out of fighting for too long.

_So snap out of it. _

He jumped, grabbed a light fixture, swung and kneed the back of the biggest guy there. Beside him Slade had another by the throat, threw him aside, but there were more still coming. Dick spun. Kicked the door closed in their faces. _Might slow them down-_

There was a man behind Slade, trying to load his gun, struggling. No way he'd have got off a shot but Dick could move and he did and a second later the man was sprawled on the ground, gun in pieces beside his hand.

"Quickly-", Slade moved, grabbed his arm and half threw him over the bodies, "Right turn. Door on the left, five up. Get it open."

The lock was heavy: thick and secure. Reinforced around the edges with metal. Behind him he could hear Slade holding them off, shots firing and men shouting. _Trust him to take the easy job. _

Dick gritted his teeth, stood back. _Evened his weight and- _kicked. Another one, then another. The door cracked somewhere. _More. _One- _two- _three- _four- _

"It's open!"

Nothing for a long moment; he looked back down the hall. _Should he go and find him? _Help him?

"Slade?!"

_Crap. _He had to-

But there was another shot and he came running, headed up the stairs inside, paused to look at him. His nose was actually _bleeding. _Wow. "Good work."

The helicopter was painted to match the ones owned by the Gotham Gazette. Dick was suddenly embarrassed that that hadn't been obvious to him. _How else are you going to fly a helicopter across a city without attracting attention?_

The building was on fire: burning somewhere below them, enough that the smoke was getting thick. More screams and shouts, sirens now too. The police were moving in.

"Don't worry about _him._"

Dick shot Slade a look. _Of course he knows what you're thinking._

"My man on the ground says that Ivy's keeping him busy. He won't even be here for a few more hours."

"Hmmf." Dick grunted. He wanted to believe that, he realised. He really did.

_But Slade doesn't know Bruce like you do._

They lifted off, Slade driving. The buildings below faded smaller and smaller into the smoke and the rain, and Dick sat back a little in his chair.

He was out.

_You're back where you started. _

He could talk again. He wasn't ever going to have to look at Call-Me-Arnold again. That was _better. _

Slade didn't care about him. _He doesn't pretend to care about you either. _But he had value, maybe not as much as he'd hoped. But something.

That was better too.

They came down to land on the Gazette's building. Slade smirked, glanced sideways at Dick. "Even easier to bribe than Arkham."

Dick gave him a tired look. He really, _really _wasn't in the mood. "What now?"

"Well…" He opened his jacket, taking out the file. "There's a boat ready to leave the city in three hours. Until then I have some work to do. A few clients to meet."

"Whoever wanted the record from Blackgate." Dick nodded, made to stand up.

Slade touched his shoulder, reached into a hidden compartment under his seat.

"Wait."

Leaning forward, he put something down on the dashboard.

Dick stared. He could have laughed.

_The damn trigger. _

Great.

"What-", he gave in, smiled at Slade with the feeling that he was finally on the edge of snapping. What else was there to do? "You going to threaten me? Make me grovel?"

"Dick." Slade shook his head, lip twisting into another patronising little smile. "Don't you think we're a little beyond that?"

"So-"

"It's yours." He gestured to it. "Take it. I don't expect you'll want to use it, but-"

"_What_."

"It-", Now he was obviously enjoying this, "Is _yours._"

"I don't-"

"You're not my apprentice anymore."

His head hurt, his eye twitched.

"Is there more I could teach you?" Slade wasn't looking at him, he shrugged. He sounded so _casual_. "Of course. I am _very, very _good at my job. _But._"

_Of course there's a 'but'._

"I won't be holding you prisoner anymore."

Okay. Okay, _you've gone mad_. Dick gave up. "_What?"_

With a look like he was talking to a very stupid house cat, Slade smiled at him. His voice was low and patient. "You stayed quiet for a month. You've suffered enough. I'm releasing you from our arrangement. With suitable payment, of course."

Dick rubbed his forehead. Absolutely none of this made sense, but with so much crazy around him he could only grab the most obvious, most ridiculous piece-

"… Payment?"

"Payment." Slade placed the file in his hands. "For an archaic hole Blackgate keeps very thorough records on their parolees. Including their current addresses."

But he hardly heard him. He was distracted. He was reading the name printed in front of him:

'_Tony Zucco'._


	7. Chapter 7

**FIRST TWENTY-ISH CHAPTERS HERE : s/7734330/1/Basic-Skill**

**/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / **

"… You're saying I should-"

"Kill Tony Zucco." Slade's hands were folded, he watched Dick's face. "Yes."

"And if I do-"

"No." He chuckled, shook his head. "This isn't an ultimatum. You get the trigger. You get the file. You walk away from here today without owing me anything."

"All right…"

"My offer to continue your training isn't attached to that. But if you _want to, _I'll be waiting at the docks at eleven."

"So- so-", _Stop stammering. _"… What if I go to Batman? Tell him everything? You're saying you'd just let me do that?"

"I wouldn't be _delighted_." He gave Dick a mild look. "But yes. I won't stop you."

_This was a trap. This had to be a trap. _

"… I don't believe you."

"Oh." Slade pulled a hurt face, "_Ouch._"

"I don't understand why you'd- why you'd do _any of this-_"

"You're very skilled." He smiled again. "You could be better than me some day. I like to encourage talent in young people. Give something back to the communit-"

"_Stop joking!_" Dick realised that he'd shouted that- _actually shouted-_ but he couldn't control it, "I've been through- do you have any _idea _what it's been like? How much- "

Slade was watching him, eye on his. The look silenced him.

After a moment, he sat back again, looking away from Dick, and began to speak.

"It's difficult. It's _so _difficult, being trapped alone. Inside your head. All that time and you start to feel like you're going mad. Like your thoughts are eating each other."

His throat was dry. Dick's eye twitched.

"And then, one day…" Slade smiled, almost gently. "One day you start to see things clearly. People leave you. People stop caring. People _lose faith. _You realise that humanity isn't permanent. _Worth _is."

"… I mean…" He shifted in his seat, tried to think of a rebuttal but-

"And then you see that they were using you. That people will _always use you. _The only way out is to use them back. To _know your value._"

Dick glanced at him again. He wanted to deny it, but he couldn't think _why. _

_Just to deny him. Just to keep thinking the same way you always have. _

_It's safe to know your place. _

"Tony Zucco-", Slade pushed on, his voice was a little more business-like, "was the start of Batman owning you. Owning your _mind._ Whatever future you choose, Dick, I'd like you to have the option of exorcising your demons."

"Hah." It came out like a bark. Dick snorted. "Don't act like you care about me."

"Really-", Slade gave him a sad look, "after everything? You think I don't? Just because I'm honest about the _other _reasons I have for doing what I do, do you think I'm that cold?"

"I know you'd shove me off a cliff for enough money."

He chuckled. "No, I don't think so. Maybe for a continent."

_A continent? _Dick started to laugh, hollowly. It echoed. "You're crazy. Which continent?"

"Europe."

"I'm insulted." He straightened up, shook his head, still smiling. _This is what crazy feels like_. "… This whole thing. Me getting captured. Locked up. That was all your big master scheme, right? You wanted the Titans to get me. You knew they'd give up on me. That Batman would. Right?"

"_Dick._" Slade shook his head, mockingly appalled. "That hardly qualifies as a 'master scheme'."

"But you did it on purpose?"

"Not-", He considered, "Not from the start. I let you stay in custody when I realised it was having a positive impact."

"You guessed how they'd react?"

"I have a great understanding of human nature."

"You let them lock me up? You knew what it'd do to me?"

"I was never far away."

"Yeah." Dick sobered, undid his seat-belt. _A continent. How much is Europe worth? A lot, probably. _

And that was comforting. Slade didn't pretend to care. Slade didn't lie.

_Slade valued him highly._

"The trigger." He picked it up. "If I destroy it the Titans will be okay, right?"

"So long as you're thorough."

"Good." Dick looked at the file for a moment, then he tucked it under his arm and got out onto the roof.

"You'll want to keep a low profile out there." Slade nodded down towards Gotham. "You're a pretty famous face."

"Yeah." He smirked. "Can I borrow your eye-patch?"

"Watch out. I'll downgrade you to Australia."

Dick laughed again. _It doesn't sound like your laugh. _No. He just sounded different now. "I'll think about it."

"I'm sure."

He looked back at Slade from the top of the fire escape, The helicopter was already taking off.


	8. Chapter 8

**GUESS WHO JUST WROTE AN EXTRA CHAPTER BECAUSE THEY REALISED THEY SHOULD HAVE WRITTEN IT BEFORE BUT THEY DIDN'T SO THE STORY FLOWED BADLY **

**tomorrow: probably the last part. Maybe the second last? Either way wow this might actually get finished this time. **

**AS EVER THE FIRST TWENTY CHAPTERS ARE OVER HERE s/7734330/1/Basic-Skill**

/ / / / /

This was dangerous.

_This is exhilarating. _

The coat Slade had given him was thick and heavy, the shoulders and body boxed him. The hood blocked everything out, so he took it down and let the rain drum on his head instead. It almost hurt. It froze through his skin.

_This is the last night you'll ever be in Gotham. _

Dick kicked a puddle, considered, for a moment, dancing round a street lamp. Which movie was that in? He'd seen it with his parents.

The thing was- the pathetic thing was- that he was on his way to kill Tony Zucco.

The thought of doing it made him sick. _The thought of not doing it makes you sicker. _There was a pressure built up inside him, he was so angry, he was so _tired _and _this would make it better. _

He couldn't tell if that thought came from him or Slade.

_Does it matter?_

And he deserved it. The sad, weak old murderer hadn't even left Gotham. Probably still doing mob work, Dick doubted that Batman had taken enough interest to check up on him and force him clean.

Sudden sirens echoed nearby. Instinctively, Dick ducked into the shadows, _here they came-_

The police cars rounded the corner, wheels spinning, rainwater dashing on the walls and on him. The red lights flashing on and off and on and-

Catching the figure jumping over the rooftops above him.

_Just for a moment. _

Wow. Dick smiled. He'd never seen Batman like this before, like a normal person would. Cape flying, cowl glinting, wind and rain flying behind and around him-

_He's pathetic. _

Dressing up like that. Who _did _that?

'Inspiring fear'. _Sure. _He just wanted to look cool_. _

Dick snorted and kept going, head down.

Another few blocks north, shortcut past the subway, shoving through a crowd of half-drunk kids outside an all-night store.

_You're never coming back here. _

And honestly- so what? Gotham was just another city.

_You'll miss it._

He missed Jump too. He missed his parents, and the Titans, and Bruce, and Barbara, Alfred-

It was pointless. He'd ignore it till he didn't feel it anymore.

_You can still go back. _

Oh, there it was. _That _thought.

All right, more realistically: _You don't have to go to Slade. _

So what then? Take his show on the road, get back into a circus? Or find another city and start patrolling. Just add a little black to the Robin suit to show he was all grown up. Eventually Batman or Starfire or Raven or someone would track him down, he'd give a little speech and keep on fighting the good fight.

_Dance like a monkey. _

Now _that _made him sick.

He could just be normal.

_Oh come on. You have no idea how to be normal. _

Another thing to thank Bruce for.

But-

_You're ignoring the point. _

_You want to go with Slade. _

_You want him to value you. _

_You want him to look at you and know what you are and not care because he's just as bad._

And really, what was wrong with that?

_God_. He'd gone crazy.

Without really thinking he'd gone where he'd needed to go: a shabby, dirty apartment block that stank like mould. _Better than Zucco deserved. _

He'd go in there and he'd find him and he'd _make him sorry make him suffer make him dead. _

And Bruce would see what had happened, exactly _why _it had happened, _exactly what he did to you. _

Because that was what this was. Not revenge for his parents. Not killing Zucco to kill Zucco.

_Hurting Batman in the only weak spot he has: his damn ego. _

Dick's fist tightened till it hurt. He shut his eyes and clenched his jaw.

Killing a man to wound another. But Zucco _did _deserve to die.

Did it make a difference?

He watched the dark windows of Zucco's apartment.

He made a decision.


	9. Chapter 9

This was going to be the last chapter till I decided to go more bookend-y. So you get another one yay (?)

Also guess who got locked out of their account again. THE MORAL OF THE STORY IS ALWAYS LINK EMAILS TO YOUR ACCOUNT SO YOU CAN GET THEM TO SEND YOU YOUR PASSWORD.

**FIRST TWENTY CHAPTERS ARE STILL OVER HERE s/7734330/1/Basic-Skill**

/ / / / / /

Eleven at the Gotham docks.

Not a good place.

But the big guy seemed to know what he was doing.

Seemed to be armed too, but Clive wasn't about to say that.

You have a boat. You get a job picking someone up in Gotham in the middle of the night. Chances are they aren't exactly simpatico with the GCPD. Clive knew that, he'd made his peace with it, he was sure to feel guilty next Sunday (but guilty with a heavy wallet was better than righteous and poor). He was _not _going to start making moral judgements.

It was this _waiting. _Made him anxious. Made him freezing, too.

"Hey- hey. We gonna be here much longer?"

Eye-patch gave him a sharp look and Clive held up his hands in defeat. "Alright. Sorry."

The guy was a real cold fish (badum tsst that's a boat joke. Clive had a lot of them.) They'd met through a friend of a friend who had a lot of friends, and had only finalised all of this the night before. And like Clive had said then, he just didn't _get it. "_You look like class." He'd said to Eye-patch, "You could hire guys with _comfy_ boats. You could hire a damn submarine. I don't like taking jobs I don't get."

"I had to hurry." Eye-patch obviously wasn't a sharer: the words sounded like he was prying them out of his mouth. "There was an… unforeseen complication. I don't think that we'll be interrupted, but due to certain… moving parts colliding it was necessary to bring my deadline forward."

It took Clive a moment. Why did these guys all talk like James Bond bad guys?

"Oh. _Oh. _Someone's onto you."

Eye-patch's head tilted. "_Not. Exactly._"

Clearly the last word on the subject.

Clive waved it off, "I don't care what you're planning. I'm not gonna ask. So long as the Bat's not involved it's all good."

Which brought them here. Now. Just past eleven.

Clive yawned.

"Y'know, normally when people say eleven they tend to actually _mean _eleven."

"We wait."

"I'm just say-"

A shadow moved. Clive almost fell into the water.

And Eye-patch smiled.

"I thought so."

It was a kid: dark haired. Dirty like he'd been shoved over a few times. Kind of familiar, but as soon as Clive started to recognise him he stopped himself. _Nope. _Not getting involved in whatever this was.

"Yeah, well…" He gave Eye-patch a dirty sort of look, something between a smirk and a glare. "Don't get smug about it. I'll change my mind."

"Duly noted." Eye-patch went to clasp the kid's shoulder, he dodged and shot a look down at Clive instead.

"_This_ is how we're leaving?" He looked back at him. "It's not going to fall apart in the water is it?"

"Don't be so melodramatic." They walked on. Clive cast off.

The pair were silent, standing beside each other, watching the gap grow between them and Gotham.

"I don't want to come back here." The kid said quietly. "Or Jump."

"I was assuming." Eye-patch replied smoothly, looking down at him. "Bad memories?"

The wind picked up then, but Clive thought he heard him agree.


End file.
